Roll Those Numbers…

Roll Those Numbers…

It’s cool being 38 now, and I’ve just scoured the record collection for a song that is numerically appropriate. ‘38’ by the Revolting Cocks. Fantastic! Totally numerically perfect! Give it a listen and I’m sadly reminded that this is a song about the Heysel football disaster between Liverpool and Juventus fans. Huh. Not quite dripping in birthday sentiment as I would have hoped, but there you are. Though that said, I could say that my birthday was a…riot (Ehh? Ehh?). Less the Liverpool fans and body count.

Got to the Old York to have dinner (steak never tasted so dandy) with some friends and get the final touches on the night going. Get the tickets sold as people com in, and get the 50-50 tickets into the hands of the punters.

The comics trickled in and found their way around the already filling-up room. As expected, we had to relegate the comics to the patio which thankfully was provided with clear skies and a cooling breeze. Beer tickets were then firmly planted in their hands. Ten minutes prior to the anticipated start time, I was told that as it stood we were at capacity and were now officially turning people away. This was minimized by throwing folks onto the patio forcing them to be saddled in amongst the acts for the night, but also having to watch the show through the window while listening through the open patio door. Sorry for the inconvenience, folks, but your attendance was truly appreciated nonetheless.

Show started close to on-time and went until well after midnight with the comics providing the audience the ability to salad-bar their way through the night (didn’t like him so much, liked her, and he’s funny but needs a better shirt). Seventeen comics hit the stage in all giving the audience definitely their money’s worth at fifty-nine cents a comic! They usually run you at least a loonie. The capacity to provide door prizes, or as we call them in my village – t-shirts, was afforded by the same good people that helped get the comics closer to tippy on free beer. Last door prize of the night was TVA’s Grab Bag, a big paper affair filled with things such as maple syrup, a picture frame, a Ned Flanders doll, and a ticket to the Wednesday performance of The Hives that I bought before checking my calendar to see I was out of town. I’m smart, me.

In all, after all the dust settled, the total that was brought in for breast cancer research was…wait for it…


I just came back from the Ontario branch of the Canadian Breast Cancer Society and they’re pretty pleased with our efforts. Thanks all that showed up to make the night a success. In particular some shout outs to:

All the comics who donated their time for the show. They are in order of appearance:

– Scott McMann
– Nathan Macintosh
– Jeff Elliott
– Jillian Thomas
– John Markey
– Dave Paterson
– Brian Coughlin
– Alan Park
– Mister Anonymous
– James Butlin
– Peter Anthony
– Gitte Barrow
– Laura Prosko
– Deep
– Nile Seguin

God bless the ticket collectors and 50-50 strong-armers Gitte and Karina.
Snaps to Chen for capturing the evening on, well not film, but whatever’s inside digital cameras these days.
Cheers to Wellington Brewery for the case of beer. Who doesn’t like beer, really? Especially Trailhead. That there’s tasty lager.
Props to Jay and Sky for keeping everyone in food and booze.
A big WATP! to Stephen for the poster design.
A huge could-not-have-done-it-without-you to Erin and all at the Old York Bar and Grill for giving me the room that I continue to support locally as it has supported me in the early days of this comedy junket that I’m on.

Peace, all. Thanks for helping the cause and supporting live stand-up wherever it is.

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